One of Our Own
by MightyMilkDuds
Summary: 6 members of Team Rainbow leave for a mission and only 5 return.


**A/N:** Hey everyone, this is my first fanfic in a long time and it's the first one on my shiny new account. I'm posting this just to test the waters and see what people think. I'm definitely ready to write more of this if there's interest so be sure to leave a review. This chapter is preview and is about 3/5 of what my usual chapter length would be. I don't know how I feel about the ending of this so feel free to let me know what you think.

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Eliza Cohen was always able to tell the difference between brave and idiotic. It was something that she thought gave her an edge over other operators, one of the reasons she was picked for Team Rainbow. But for the first time in her life - she couldn't tell which one her next move was. Things were **not** going well, what they assumed would be a typical (as typical as missions given to an international counter-terrorist unit get) hostage rescue turned out to be on the the largest traps ever created by the White Masks. When the team of herself, Thatcher, Glaz, Thermite, Montagne, and IQ arrived they discovered a complex filled to the brim with White Mask's and no hostage. After clearing one quarter of the building and making their way to the roof they found a moment to breathe and do damage assessment to themselves. Montagne had taken two shots to the rib cage but the trauma plate he wore stopped them (he made a mental note to thank Rook later), he still had severely bruised ribs. Thermite, while still functional, was suffering from second to third degree burns from when a terrorist shot at his breach charge causing fire to spew all over his chest and arms rather than blow open the reinforced wall. Similar to her fellow FBI agent, she was overall functional, but had managed to break her trademark sunglasses on the elbow of an enemy combatant. Thatcher managed to catch several small fragments of a grenade in his thigh - which now stuck out like thorns from a rose bush. Thatcher decided that with a 50% injury rate at a quarter of the complex cleared they were in desperate need of evac, which just arrived, leaving Eliza with a decision to make. Leap into the helicopter like the rest of her team already had, which was already beginning to leave, or shoot down the four White Masks who have almost finished setting up surface to air missiles on the ground. Thatcher could see the look on her face and called out her code name,

"Ash! Get in the chopper! Now! That's an order!"

But it was too late for words, enemies had already begun to run at them from all sides of the roof spraying bullets at the helicopter. Unable to wait any longer without the risk of being shot down, the chopper pulled away while Eliza raised her rifle, sending the four terrorists below her to kingdom come. Now, with no way to escape and no chance to fight, and enemies practically on top of her she pulled then pin on her last grenade and waited for the end watching her teammates leave. She had already made peace with her decision though, there was something appealing about being in control right up to the end. What she wasn't expecting was a violent punch to the face and someone else's hand on the grenade, throwing it high in the air above them. When it finally detonated she, and her aggressor were thrown to the grown, still very much alive albeit lightly peppered with shrapnel. In an instant 3 were on top of her, ripping away her guns and holding her down. The last thing she saw before everything faded to darkness was a white mask staring down at her.

~~~~~PAGE BREAK~~~~~

Helicopters are loud. Helicopters are very loud. People inside helicopters have to wear noise cancelling headphones with radios in them just to be able to talk to the person 10 inches to their left. Not to mention the hail of bullets they were narrowly avoiding. This helicopter though? It was eerily quiet. The men and women inside it could feel it too. Save for one Jordan Trace, or as his official paperwork from the FBI would call him - Thermite. Jordan was beside himself with a cocktail of emotions. Watching his face, Thatcher could catch shards of violent emotions ripping through him. When Jordan looked up at Thatcher, he could already tell what the young agent wanted to say, and he already knew that it would be volatile. Bringing two fingers to his ear Jordan signaled a request to speak privately. Thatcher braced himself for what was to come and opened a private radio channel between them saying, "Go ahead, son."

Broken, Jordan yelled, "We have to go back and get her!"

Grimly the older man responded, "If we go back there now it's certain death for everyone in this chopper, including you."

"She has it worse than that right now!"

"There's nothing else I can do without jeopardizing more lives of my team. I'm sorry Thermite there's nothing we can do for her right now."

"Bullshit!" The hotheaded FBI agent retorted. "We all knew the risks when we joined Rainbow! We can't just leave one of our own to get tortured by the enemy!"

"We will be back for her, just not while Montagne can hardly breath, I can hardly walk, and you can't hold a gun with your hands. The last thing we need is IQ or Glaz getting injured. We cannot afford to have 3 operators out of the field let alone 6. There's a difference between bravery and idiocy, son."

The only response Thatcher was the familiar click of the radio channel switching off. He watched as Thermite sat down and hung his head in a mixture of shock and defeat. He glanced over to the rest of his team to check in on how they were doing. Montagne was still struggling to breath even with the extra support that IQ was giving him. He sat down, needing to take the weight off of his leg that still had shrapnel in it. Glancing over to Glaz and seeing him sitting with his eyes closed inspired him to not bother talking to anyone else and do the same. After what felt like seconds Thatcher opened his eyes under his gas mask, only to be greeted by 4 or 5 medical staff being shuffled about by Team Rainbow's on site doctor, Gustave Kateb, fittingly nicknamed Doc, who briskly walked back inside their base to the medical lab which sat just off the main hallway. Thatcher got up out of his seat and walked inside to follow Doc as two other doctors wheeled a gurney over to take Montagne to a proper bed. He looked back as another two helped Thermite out of the helicopter leaving him with Doc, who upon seeing Thatcher, was much more concerned with Thatcher's leg than he was himself.

"Doc" Thatcher nodded to him, removing the gas mask that was covering his face and sitting down on an operating table.

"What happened out there, Mike?" He asked, using Thatcher's real name in a silent attempt to at asking him to not use their call-signs when off mission, it just didn't feel genuine to Gustave.

"It was a trap." Was the only response.

Gustave nodded in understanding as he picked the rose-thorn shrapnel pieces out of Mike's leg, quickly covering them with bandages. After a certain number of years in service as a counter-terrorist you learn to pick up on things that aren't said out loud. As Glaz and IQ walked past the two both men watched them walk away to the locker rooms, Gustave remembered that 6 operators left but now he only counted 5. Dread filled Gustave's entire body, he didn't even want to ask. He knew that he absolutely had to though.

"Mike…" Was all that he needed to say before Mike hopped off the table, not even letting Gustave finish tying up the bandages.

Silently Mike Baker walked to Six's office for what was going to be the hardest debriefing of his life.


End file.
